


Cycles

by MilesAboveFantasy



Category: Degrassi
Genre: Gen, gay male author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 17:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5792650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilesAboveFantasy/pseuds/MilesAboveFantasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Miles lays in bed the night after saving his brother, he contemplates the cycles that propel his life.</p>
<p>Edited 2/1/16 to fix spacing issues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cycles

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: This is my first Degrassi fanfic. I haven’t met a character I love as much as Miles since Ian from Shameless last summer – and my love for Miles surpasses that by far. I just had to put some ideas exploring Miles into words. And I discovered more about him as I wrote. See the end for a more in depth Author’s note.
> 
> Warnings: Very mild language and sexual content. The worse of it is use of the word 'dick'. Rated T due to Mile's depressive character.

**Cycles**

_“My brother almost shot up our school’s dance tonight,”_ Miles Hollingsworth III thought as he lay in bed, a typical round of insomnia that had haunted him ever since he was old enough to be a disappointment to his father. He fooled himself, he knew, thinking that things were finally turning out okay. He was going to run off to boarding school to start anew - no drama, no drugs, no family. His chance to find out who he really was away from all this shit around him. He was even ending things relatively amicably with Tristan, who for a time was the only light in his life.

“I have to process all of this,” Miles thought. He would not be sleeping tonight. Tomorrow was a Saturday anyhow, and it would certainly not strike anyone as odd for him to sleep late into the afternoon as he had while ‘addicted’ to weed. _“I need to focus on my brother first. I can help him… before he makes a mistake he can’t come back from. My problems don’t matter anyway... I’ll never be anything but a failure,”_ he brooded, rolling over in a huff as his life left his chest.

Imagining his future always left him like this with no hope in sight. But he could help Hunter. Had already helped Hunter. I love you. Words that neither of them had heard from their parents in years. Or, at least, not with any real meaning. Not in the way he had told Hunter on the phone tonight. I love you. Spoken from a place he had never reached to before deep inside him driven by fear that his brother was about to do the unthinkable. And that love meant everything.

Miles knew what it felt like to have no support. Hell, that was his life for as long as he could remember. His parents weren’t there for him. His father made him the black sheep of the family and ostracized him from his siblings - even if they had bonded for a time over escaping from their father. Friends never stayed for long - except Winston who never really understood him in any way that mattered. For long he sought acceptance with girls by going through them by the dozen looking for someone to understand him, something to love him. It wasn’t until much more recently that he realized his great body, adorable face and perfect dick wouldn’t hand him what he sought on a silver platter. _“Though those gay porns I have been watching this last year show me I’m hardly as perfect as I thought,”_ he thought with a smirk at his own self-depreciating joke. Not that he minded. Luckily, body image wasn’t on to the list of fucked up things about his life.

Neither Maya nor Tristan cared what he looked like - well past first glances recalling Tristan staring at him shirtless that first day back in Paris. But they both used him in their own way. Maya sought to ‘save’ him as she failed to save an old friend. Selfish, if thoughtful. But not true care and understanding.

And Tristan… Tristan made him feel more happiness than he had in years. Tristan cared about him, truly cared about him, in a way he had never felt before. Well… maybe, he thought, recalling how he had asked Tristan if was he so desperate for love that he was willing to put up with being treated like garbage. The logical part of Miles told him that he was being cruel, that he was being paranoid, that Tristan did care for him. But there was a fear in him. A fear that was sparked and brushed into a flame by his father that told him that he was only capable of being a disappointment and not worthy of love. And that fear always took over, materializing into existence in those biting words to Tristan. And Tristan looked at him in shock. In disappointment. And in that, his fear acted as the self-fulfilling prophecy that propelled the cycle of fear that was his life.

It was always the same. Whenever he tried to convince himself that he was capable of being loved - of being loved by Tristan - the fear took over and he lashed out.

Miles slammed his fist into the sheets next to his pillow in anger - at himself, at his life, at his pathetic excuse for a father - and grimaced at the pain. Not enough to cause damage, but enough for a sharp pain to shoot up his wrist. Then he laid there, ashamed. Lashing out as usual. He usually hurt someone - but always himself.

And here he was, back at self-pity. He told himself to think about his brother, how to help him, but here he was bitching about his own life to himself. Then he burst out in a soft, sardonic laugh at himself. People were always telling him he needed to speak his thoughts. But who would care enough to listen?

It was always a cycle of abuse for him. His dad treated him like shit so he treated others poorly, if for other reasons, which fed his fears and self-pity. Which lead to him hurting others before they could hurt him. And he hated himself for it which fed and fueled his fears. And the drugs these last few weeks had been the firestorm of those fears. And up until the moment where his heart stopped when he realized there was a chance his brother had went not only to ruin his life but to end others, he wished that those drugs had taken his life. And now back to self-pity, he groaned in disgust at himself.

Always cycles. If it wasn’t the cycle of abuse by his father, it was the cycle of fear that haunted his every interaction with others. And now here he was cycling between worry for his brother and wallowing in his own self-pity. And he realized he was what everyone said about him. _“Selfish, manipulative,”_ and he added himself, _“not worthy of love.”_

But his brother still was. He had even said those very words tonight to Hunter. Saving Hunter from crossing a line where no one would ever say those words to him again.

Yes, tomorrow he was going to help his brother. That was all he could concern himself with for the time being. And with that, the gnawing dread in his chest subsided. He may not be able to help himself, but his brother was someone’s life he could make better.

And soon he fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Note: So this is currently a one-shot, though it may turn into a full length fic where this would serve as chapter 1. I already have some end goals lined up for the resolution, but I just had to get this out of my head and on to paper – and the actual writing of it led to its own revelations about the character. 
> 
> I just love Miles! I watched the Next Class on Netflix after not watching Degrassi in years (and I was never an avid watcher). But his character hooked me and I am currently 1/3 of the way through season 13 to learn more about him.
> 
> Please let me know what you think!


End file.
